


Just one nap couldn't hurt...

by Aondeug



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, Poetry, Sui Feng loves getting praise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Sui Feng is a busybody and a perfectionist by nature. She also takes great pride in her endurance and strength of will. Going without sleep for long stretches is nothing to her, besides another chance to brag. Yoruichi has other thoughts on the captain's refusal to sleep though. She also knows a number of tricks to get Sui Feng to heel as needed.
Relationships: Shihouin Yoruichi/Sui-Feng | Soifon
Kudos: 11





	Just one nap couldn't hurt...

**Author's Note:**

> I got very poor sleep on a day I had to work. Which gave rise to the original draft of the current poem when I was finally free of said work.

_Do not underestimate the Secret Mobile Corps_

That was her motto  
To which she held dear,  
And which she oft repeated  
To her subordinates there,  
Just as she does this day here  
Sitting in her office at work.

“Hmm?”  
Was the sole response  
That she gets back  
From the other woman there  
Lounging in what once was  
Her office in those days past,  
And inside which she’d oft said  
Those very same words  
Parroted back right now.

Setting the page held down,  
Ignoring the want to lay down,  
She shoots a hard glare  
And says quite firmly then:  
“I am not weak.”

The other woman sprawls out,  
Limbs stretched out without care  
And says to her right back  
With exasperation falling,  
“I didn’t say you were.”

To which she answers not,  
Which grates upon her  
Such that she looks right back  
To the pages before her,  
Thanking them in private  
For their most obedient silence.

She hadn’t the time to sleep.  
The mission hadn’t allowed for it,  
And her schedule did not permit it.

There was training to give.  
There were reports to read.  
If she were truly unlucky,  
There would be a matter again  
That required her presence.

That was the nature of it.  
It was the honor of the Corps,  
With its heavy duties  
And its fatal missions.  
She adored that nature,  
Taking to it with pride,  
Always saying to herself  
“I have lived through worse,”  
And repeating to herself  
“I will survive through it all.”

“Hmm?”  
The questioning hum rings out  
Loud enough she can’t ignore  
That there is another here  
Pestering her with suggestions  
To which she cannot bow,  
And her attention so torn  
She trips over a sentence, then two,  
And has to double on back  
To read them once more.

“Finally keeping your temper, Sui Feng?”

The words bite hard  
Bringing a sigh out the throat  
And that sigh brings too  
More words from _her_.

“No, I guess not,” she says  
With an affectionate tone  
That teases and prods and pokes  
At her sitting there  
Trying to read through reports  
As the need for sleep pulls.

She ignores those words  
Giving them no response,  
For they deserve none at all  
And her will is strong.  
She tells herself this  
As she focuses on words,  
As she stifles a yawn.

...but not enough to quiet it,  
To hide it fully, perfectly,  
And the other then jumps  
At this newest opportunity,  
Again humming to herself  
Before sharing once more:  
“You know, you could nap.”

“Duty is of the utmost importance.”  
“Do you have any meetings left?”  
“Examples need to be set.”  
“Is there someone who needs one?”  
“Do not underestimate the Secret Mobile Corps!”

The papers were lost once more  
And her tone right with  
In that swarm of words on words,  
The pitch rising up and up  
Alongside the papers piling up  
Speaking of work upon work.

Duty was paramount.  
Perfection was vital.  
Strength mattered above all.

She survived worse.  
She _would_ again.

...but the words swam  
And they weren’t coming back  
Even as she looked down  
Examining each carefully,  
Seeking for the meaning therein  
So they could be set aside  
For yet another report  
And that for another yet  
Until the pile was reduced  
Down to none.

A sound!  
Shuffling fabric, quiet steps…

“That’s not an answer, Sui Feng,”  
Fall the words from the other  
Sitting right next to her  
Having snuck up close  
As she was lost again  
In a sea of work upon work.

This had been her work  
In those years long past  
And feeling no shame surely  
That other woman looks  
On and over her shoulder  
To gaze down upon the desk  
And those most confidential papers.

She sighs and flips them  
To rest face down  
Before looking on over  
At the face of the woman  
Whose desk this once was,  
Whose presence she could forbid  
Right now if she so chose.

But the cat like grin given  
Before pulling off and back  
Stills her voice and her will.

As did _it_ , the notion,  
The inherent absurdity  
Of her, haori coat or no,  
Ordering _her_ around.

The her who composes herself  
With an order of her own beat,  
As lax or as strict as she needs  
And whose whimsy defines  
To which she attends and when.

Such as here, at work,  
As she rests her chin  
Down upon _her_ shoulder  
Looking at the papers still  
Though their backs are blank.

That warmth…  
That touch…

They bring up another sigh  
But this one falls off  
Without a hint of stress,  
Singing only of relief  
And a need for more.

“Sui Feng?”

She gives no answer.

“If we had a contest now  
Over who could go without sleep  
For the longest period,  
You’d definitely win that bet.”

She has no answer.

The tone was joking.  
She knows it’s a joke  
Meant to poke and prod  
At her pride held so dear,  
But she holds the words  
Close to her regardless.

Arms snake about her waist,  
Pulling her close, tight,  
As she stares down still  
Finding only blank papers  
Without answers on them.

“I do mean that seriously, a bit.”  
She wishes to argue that.  
“I expected great things from you.”  
She wishes to contest that.  
“And you’ve certainly done them.”  
She opens her mouth to complain.

“Your standard for work’s a bit much,  
But you keep right on top of it.”

“...thank you,” she says, quiet,  
Resting back into _her_ warmth  
Despite the nagging voice  
Screaming of duty alone.

_(“You’re being cruel.”)_

It’s a cruelty that speaks  
Directly to her now  
In praises just as she likes  
And teases as she loves,  
And now with a hand  
Resting upon her thigh  
With regal authority.

The paper was blank.  
Her mind was too.

A world of black,  
Her eyes shut.  
A world of _her_ ,  
Eyes unneeded.

She feels a kiss,  
Gentle, sweet,  
Upon her cheek  
As she feels herself fall  
Into the warmth  
Of that woman there,  
And with herself  
The world falls too.

_Do not underestimate the Secret Mobile Corps_  
_Or their former Commander in Chief_  
_The one and only Yoruichi Shihouin_


End file.
